Chuck
by seano
Summary: Charlie Brown moves back home right before his 10-year high school reunion. With his career and friendships shattered what will happen when he is reunited with those he grew up with?
1. Chapter 1

PROLOGUE

It was a bright Saturday afternoon in mid-May, and Progressive Field in downtown Cleveland was surprisingly close to a sellout for a matinee game between the Cleveland Indians and the Kansas City Royals.

The national anthem had just been completed, and the Indians rushed out of the dugout to take their spots in the field. Charlie Brown was the last to leave the dugout, striding purposefully towards the pitcher's mound. He took in the scene as he kicked at the dirt that abutted the pitching rubber.

_I made it_, he thought to himself as he caught the ball from the catcher and prepared to take his warmup pitches. How many pitches had he thrown in his life to get to this point? 23 years old, and making his major league debut. From the little park down on the corner to the stadium at his high school to long bus rides in the minor leagues – thousands and thousands of pitches. All to get to this point. _I made it!_

"Batter up!" the umpire called. The leadoff hitter, a quick switch-hitter who loved to slap the ball to the opposite field, stepped into the batter's box.

Charlie Brown stared in at his catcher, who flashed the signs. Fastball, low and inside. Charlie Brown nodded, took a deep breath and exhaled. Into the windup, and then the pitch was away. At the knees, catching the inside corner of the plate. 92 miles an hour. Strike one.

Charlie Brown looked in again to get the signs. Fastball, high and away. Strike two. The Royal couldn't catch up to that one – 93 miles an hour.

The signs flashed across for the 0-2 delivery. Curveball. As the pitch left his hand, Charlie Brown could tell it wasn't perfect. It hung over the plate, just asking to be hit.

And it was.

A screaming line drive right back to the mound. Charlie Brown flailed as the ball whizzed past his head into center field for a single, his glove and hat flying into the air as he fell to the ground with a thud.

As Charlie Brown got up and collected his things, dusted off his pants, and tried to regain his composure, he heard a voice in the crowd.

"Welcome to the big leagues, kid!"


	2. Chapter 2

FIVE YEARS LATER

Charlie Brown shifted the Cadillac Escalade into park, grabbed the duffel bag from the passenger seat, and quickly exited the vehicle. It had been six long years since he had been to the little house on James Street, and little had changed about the building – a fact that was comforting, but also brought back a lot of sad memories.

No one had lived here for three years now, after his parents had moved full-time to Florida. Buying his parents a retirement condo in Naples was the first thing he had done with his $3 million signing bonus from the Indians for being selected with the eight pick in the draft. They spent a few years as snowbirds before finally cutting the cord with winter once and for all.

The maroon Escalade, purchased last October, represented the last bit of the bonus. It was all gone now. The bonus, frittered away on a too-large house in Scottsdale and too many offseason weekends in Las Vegas instead of working out at the gym. The professional baseball career was history, too. The Indians had let him scuffle through a few more starts in the majors after his major league debut, but ultimately he was demoted back to AAA ball with a 0-4 record and a 13.24 ERA.

Seven teams later, he was back here in Birchwood. His tryout last week with the independent Ocala Ocelots had been a bust. It was really over this time.

His pal Franklin – the only one from the old neighborhood who he still talked to – had done a great job keeping the place up. The pictures on the fireplace mantle were still the same. The large one in the middle showed the whole family from back in the day. Charlie was wearing his yellow and black zigzag-striped shirt, Sally in her blue dress, and Snoopy was there, too.

Charlie Brown let out a deep sigh and walked into the kitchen. He looked out the back window. The doghouse was still there. A little worse for the wear, perhaps, and definitely needing a fresh coat of paint.

He opened the refrigerator, and found a half-gallon of milk and a six-pack of beer staring back at him. There was a note attached to the beer. It read:

_Glad you're back in town. Give me a call. – Frank_

Charlie Brown pulled out his cell phone, swiped his way down through the contact list, until Franklin's name came up. His finger hovered over it for a moment, but then he thought better of it and put the phone back in his pocket.

_Not yet._

He grabbed one of the beers, twisted the top off and took a long drink. After tossing the bottle cap into the sink, he turned and walked down the hall towards the bedrooms. The first door on the right had the door closed. Sally's bedroom.

He put his hand on the door knob and paused for a moment. Another sigh, and then he turned the knob and pushed the door open.

The room was unchanged from the last time Sally had lived here six years ago. The posters of the hair bands still covered the walls. A picture of Linus was still in the corner of the dresser window. The closet doors were open, exposing hangers still full of polka dot clothing. Charlie Brown quickly closed the door, and walked further down the hall.

His old bedroom was next. It, too, was virtually unchanged from when he graduated from high school. Pennants lined the walls, and pictures of the baseball stars that he briefly got to stand among. He sat on the corner of his bed and took another long drink from the bottle. If he was going to live here again, things were going to have to change. Walking through the house was like a trip on some sort of miserable time machine.

His head hurt, so he walked across the hall to the bathroom. He pulled each drawer open, looking for something that could help. Finally, he found an old bottle of Tylenol. He spun it in his hands. Expired five years ago.

_It will have to do._

He flipped the lid off, and poured a half dozen or so into his hand. Quickly, he threw them into his mouth and washed them down with the last of the beer. It was only then that he looked in the mirror and took stock of things.

Charlie Brown was only 28, but he looked older, and felt even older than he looked. His head was still round, almost unnaturally so. His hairline had galloped back from his forehead rapidly over the last few years, which he blamed on bad genetics and on always wearing a baseball cap. What hair remained was trimmed to stubble, making him appear nearly bald.

Deep circles surrounded his eyes, and the eyes themselves were crisscrossed by lots of red blood vessels. He hadn't shaved in five days, leaving him in that uncomfortable space between intentional stubble and trying to grow a beard.

The hooded sweatshirt was a little ragged, with one string hanging out of the hood about three times as far as the one on the other side.

"Rats," was all that Charlie Brown could say, turning to head back to the kitchen.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Charlie Brown awoke to find himself lying on the couch with an empty pizza box on his chest and the remaining five beer bottles from Franklin spread out on the floor below him plus an empty whiskey bottle he had found in the pantry. The TV blared ESPN at "senior citizen with hearing loss" levels. He heard lawnmowers outside, and his head still hurt.

There was a knock at the door. He shoved the pizza box to the floor, and stumbled to the door. Opening it, he was greeted by Franklin's smiling face.

"Chuck!" Franklin yelled. "Great to see you, buddy!"

Charlie Brown reached out his hand, but Franklin bypassed it and gave his friend a big hug. Like Charlie Brown, Franklin had also been a superb athlete, earning a football scholarship. But a severe knee injury derailed his dreams of playing professionally, and he had returned to Birchwood and now owned a growing landscaping company. Two members of Franklin's crew were zooming across the lawn on their mowers.

"Good morning, Franklin."

"Just barely, Chuck," Franklin replied, peering around his friend and noticing the bottles and pizza box. "Looks like you had quite the return home."

"What do you mean?" Charlie Brown stammered. "Just barely?"

Franklin pointed to the clock on the living room wall.

"It's 11:53, Chuck. Morning is almost over."

"Oh."

"You all right?"

"Fine. Just different being back, you know. I haven't been back since…"

"I know, I know. Sitting in here drinking all night ain't gonna fix it, though."

"You got a better idea?"

"Of course I do," Franklin replied, still beaming. "Come out drinking with me tonight."

"I don't know."

"Sure you do. Just meet me at Louie's Tavern. Eight o'clock."

Bleary eyed, Charlie Brown just stared back at his friend.

"Come on Chuck," Franklin pleaded. "It'll be good for you."

"All right, Franklin. All right."

"Great! I'll see you tonight."

Franklin turned and walked back out towards the street.

"If you don't show, I'm coming to find you, Chuck."

Charlie Brown closed the door, laid back down on the couch and went back to sleep.

* * *

After sleeping another three hours and taking a hot shower, Charlie Brown felt a lot better. He unpacked his duffel bag, hanging up the eight identical hoodie sweatshirt and blue jean ensembles which represented his everyday wardrobe and even made a quick trip to the grocery store to stock up on Diet Coke, string cheese, Doritos, and frozen pizza.

Promptly at 8:13, he pulled the Escalade into the parking lot next to Louie's Tavern. Walking in the front door, he noted the poster for the band playing at the bar that night – some sort of 1980s-looking cover band named Neon Tempest.

_I should have brought earplugs_, he thought.

Louie's Tavern was a dive, and it had been here for decades. It was around the corner from the barber shop where Charlie Brown's father had worked. What was once a thriving middle-class neighborhood had fallen onto some hard times after the auto plant closed a decade ago.

He caught sight of Franklin in a booth along the left wall with a prime view of the stage, and went over to sit down.

"I was starting to wonder if you were going to show up," Franklin said, grabbing the pitcher of beer on the table and pouring a glass for Charlie Brown.

"Living in the past, Franklin? I mean, why are you down here?"

"Lighten up, Chuck. I think you'll like them."

Charlie Brown furrowed his brow at that, but the two friends talked for a while. Franklin had gotten married three years ago and had a six-month old son at home.

"What are you going to do now?" Franklin asked.

"I don't know, Franklin. I really don't. For the last ten years, my whole life has been baseball. And now it's gone."

"You knew that was going to happen at some point."

"Well, sure. But I never imagined I'd bounce out of the majors after six starts. That wasn't how it was supposed to be."

"Life doesn't always go the way it's supposed to be," Franklin responded. "Or maybe your life is going the way it's supposed to be, but it's just in your head."

"Seriously, Franklin? Now you're starting to sound like Linus."

Franklin paused for a moment. Should he go there?

"Have you talked to Linus?"

"Not now, Franklin," Charlie Brown responded, with a stern glare.

The guys from Neon Tempest walked by the booth on their way to the stage.

_What a bunch of fools_, he thought, noting their spandex outfits and teased out long hair.

Charlie Brown noted that Franklin gave a quick head nod to one of the guys as he walked by.

"You a fan of these guys?" Charlie Brown asked.

"I've seen them a few times. They do a great version of 'Dancing in the Dark'. Seriously, Chuck, relax. Live a little."

With that, the band kicked into their first song. 'Jump', by Van Halen. Charlie Brown had to admit they weren't too bad, although he secretly preferred Sammy Hagar to David Lee Roth.

Halfway into the song, Franklin leaned over the table.

"You don't recognize anyone here?"

Charlie Brown gave him a quizzical look.

"Here? No." He paused for a moment. "Should I?"

"The band, Chuck."

Charlie Brown scanned his eyes across the band. Nobody looked familiar. Wait - his eyes came back to the keyboard player.

"Schroeder?"


	4. Chapter 4

Following the second set, Schroeder – carrying a bottle of Miller Lite - slid into the booth next to Franklin. The two exchanged a fist bump, and Schroeder took a long slug from the bottle.

"Not exactly Beethoven, is it?" Charlie Brown said with a hint of snideness.

Schroeder's eyes narrowed a bit.

"It helps pay the bills," he responded. "Not all of us are living off something we did ten years ago."

He paused.

"But I am auditioning for a guest artist role with the Centerville Orchestra in a couple of weeks. How's your parents' house treating you?"

"Isn't it great to be back together again?" Franklin interjected, trying to lighten the mood. "How long has it been?"

"You know exactly how long it's been, Franklin."

An uncomfortable silence came over the group.

"What's going on with Lucy? Heard from her lately?" Charlie Brown asked Schroeder.

"She's in New York. You haven't seen the show?"

"Show? What show?

"It's just called _Lucy_. Cable talk show where she solves everyone's problems in one segment."

"That sounds like her alright."

"Maybe you should go on there. Might do you some good."

"I've had enough of her advice to last a lifetime, thanks."

"Welcome to the club."

Schroeder tipped his head back and laughed heartily. He held out his bottle, and clinked it against Charlie Brown's glass. The tension around the table deflated.

"I know it's been tough for you the last few years, Charlie Brown. In more ways than one. But even though you can be a miserable bastard, I'm still glad you're back in town."

"You've always had my back, Schroeder. Remember that time you tried to stop Violet from giving me a used Valentine?"

"Man, what a witch she was. That didn't stop you though, did it?"

Charlie Brown shifted uncomfortably.

"That was a long time ago."

"I hear she's coming to the reunion," Franklin said.

"Reunion? What reunion?" Charlie Brown asked.

"Didn't you get the mailing? It's our high school reunion next weekend. It sounds like pretty much everyone is coming back into town."

"Everyone?" Schroeder interjected.

"Yes.," Franklin paused. "Even Lucy."

Charlie Brown muttered an expletive under his breath.

Schroeder chuckled.

"That's exactly the way I feel about it, too."


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Charlie Brown rummaged through the pile of mail that was strewn across the coffee table in the living room. Under the Lands End catalog, he found what he was looking for – a blue envelope with a yellow stripe. He ripped it open, and scanned the invitation. It said:

BIRCHWOOD HIGH SCHOOL  
10-YEAR REUNION  
SATURDAY, JUNE 20  
7 P.M. – GYMNASIUM

He groaned, and tossed it back on top of the pile of mail. Now all the folks he had worked so hard to cut out of his life would be swarming around.

_And they'll probably be taking pleasure in my misery._

His head hurt again. He wandered down the hall, and located the expired Tylenol. He poured the last two pills into the palm of his hand, and tossed them into his mouth. Working up what little spit he had, he swallowed hard and started back to the kitchen.

But as he passed Sally's room, he stopped. In the last two days, he had walked passed it seemingly dozens of times. And only the first time had he shown the courage to open the door.

This time would be different. He turned the knob and walked in. Slowly, he walked around the room, taking it all in. Her high school cheerleading outfit hung in the closet. The college textbooks stacked neatly on the corner of her desk. An envelope of photos was still tucked into the top book.

Charlie Brown pulled the envelope out and sat on the corner of the bed. Sally's smiling face shone back at him on every one. With her college girlfriends. At a football game with Linus. On spring break in Mexico. Camping with Linus. Getting a bouquet of roses from Linus. Celebrating her birthday with Linus.

He tucked the pictures back into the envelope, and carefully placed the envelope back in the textbook, as if he didn't want Sally to know he had been in her room and seen them.

And then Charlie Brown sat back down on the bed and cried.


	6. Chapter 6

SIX YEARS AGO

Sally Brown was angry. Here it was, almost 11 o'clock on New Years Eve, and she was alone. _Where was Linus?_

The noise level in the bar was absurdly high. She peered into her purse and pulled out her cell phone. No missed calls. She pursed her lips angrily, and finished off her Long Island Iced Tea.

Her friend Penelope came up from behind her, reaching over Sally's shoulder to deposit a tray of shots on the table.

"Where's Linus?" she asked. "He's missing all the fun!"

Penelope grabbed a shot and handed it to Sally.

"Kamikazes! Our favorite!"

They clinked glasses and downed the shots. Penelope began handing the remaining shots out to the other friends at the table.

"I'll be right back," Sally said, as she stood up and headed for the ladies' room.

Once in the ladies' room, Sally stood along the wall, waiting for a stall to open. She watched everyone touch up their makeup. Everyone seemed to be having a really good time. Well, almost everyone.

Finally, the stall at the end opened. Sally closed the door behind her, and took out her cell phone. It was probably the quietest place in the bar that night. She punched in a number and waited. The machine picked up. Again.

"Linus! Where are you?" she screamed. "If you're there, you better pick up that phone right now…"

Sally heard a click.

"Hello?" came the voice on the other end of the line.

* * *

A few minutes later, Sally burst out of the restroom, crying. She pushed her way back through the crowd back to her table, where she seized her sweater off the back of her chair and made her way towards the door.

"Sally, what's wrong?" called Penelope after her.

But Sally was already gone. The cold air hit her with an icy blast as she exited the bar. She tottered her way across the parking lot as snowflakes drifted quietly down. It was cold, and her short light blue dress was designed more for celebration than warmth. She fished through her purse to find her keys, and as she pulled them out, her heel hit a patch of ice and she went sprawling to the ground. The contents of her purse skidded across the snowy ground, and she felt a trickle of blood from a cut on her knee.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Sally stammered as she saw a couple approaching to help her. "Really, I'm fine."

She crawled across the ground, gathering the contents of her purse and jamming them back in, and then staggered to her car.

"That jerk!" she screamed as she turned over the ignition. She waited a moment for the wipers to open a sightline through her windshield and then stabbed the accelerator and went off into the night.

* * *

Charlie Brown and Franklin were deep in their marathon session of _Medieval Warcraft _on PlayStation at Franklin's house when Charlie Brown's cell phone rang. The two friends often played video games when Charlie Brown returned for his now once-a-year visits home at the holidays.

"Tell Linus he should come over here and join us if he's done hanging out with Sally's friends," Franklin said.

Charlie Brown pulled the phone out of his pocket and scanned the incoming number.

"It's not Linus," he said with a quizzical look. "It's my parents."

Charlie Brown flicked his phone open and began to talk. Franklin watched as his friend's face went from questioning to ashen. Charlie Brown slowly closed his phone.

"I gotta go," he said. "There's been an accident. It's Sally."

By the time Charlie Brown arrived at the hospital, it was too late. Sally had been driving too fast on an icy road surrounded by trees with a blood-alcohol level nearly twice the legal limit.

There was just one thing he didn't know or understand: _Where was Linus?_


End file.
